What Goes on Behind Closed Doors
by madasmonty
Summary: Harold Saxon and Lucy's relationship uncovered... STORY COMPLETED!
1. What Goes on behind Closed Doors

What Goes on Behind Closed Doors

"You idiot!" The hurtful words rang out across the bedroom. But the words didn't hurt as much as the slap. As Harold Saxon hit his wife she went sprawling across the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Get up," He growled, when she lay still on the floor and buried her face into the rug he kicked her hard, "I said get UP you lazy slut!"

Lucy Saxon dragged herself up off the floor and shakily stood up. Of course dared not make eye-contact because if she did she knew she would break down in tears of despair and love. Even after all he had done, she loved him more than anyone else in the world. She would crawl across broken glass for him.

"Now," He said, his voice dangerously soft, "Get onto the bed," He gestured to the bed, as if she may be unclear as to whereabouts he was talking about.

Lucy would have moved but her body refused. She was covered in bruises and cuts and she knew what he wanted to do to her if she lay on the bed. She just wasn't up to it. Of course it never mattered what Lucy wanted.

The Master sighed and raised his laser screwdriver. "You don't want me to use this do you?" He asked.

Lucy gave a little scared gasp, "Harry, _please_, let me be..." She begged, "I've had enough for tonight..."  
"My. Name. Is. Not. _HARRY_!" He yelled. "I am the Master and make no mistake!" He roared. There was a flash of light and the smell of barbecues filled the air. Lucy screamed a scream of utter betrayal and pain. Every cell was burning and it was like Hell. Oh God! Oh _God _make it stop! Please!  
It stopped. The Master stopped burning up his wife. By that time she was lain on the floor and shaking uncontrollably. She was crying and crying even though he hated it when she did that. She couldn't stop herself.

"You didn't like that, did you?" He questioned her. "You won't want me to do it again, will you? No? Now get on that bed this instant before I _make_ you!"

The poor pitiful woman crawled over the bed and, with her last remaining strength, wrenched herself onto it and lay there panting.

The Master loomed over her with a smile. He knew this would give her utmost pleasure but at the same time most awful pain. He was going to enjoy this. With that he pushed her shoulders down hard onto the bed, holding her bruises with no care, and grinned as she gave a small cry of pain.  
"You think that's the worst?" He smiled, "Just you wait!" He laughed as her eyes grew wide with fear and dug his nails into her skin.

Her cries of pain and moans of pleasure filled the room all that night.


	2. The Fury of the Master

The Fury of the Master

Lucy lay still on the bed. If the Master didn't know better he'd say he had killed her but he knew she could handle it. A few bruises on the face? A couple of cuts? Perhaps a broken bone or two? She would be fine.

He smiled as he reminisced the way she had screamed and gasped as he gripped her and thrust at her in an almost animalistic way. She had begged for him to stop but he knew she loved it.

Her weary eyes open a fraction and she gave a little groan. Lucy Saxon wished to be anywhere else but there. If only she could escape her aching body and fly out of the window.

"Harry..." She murmured through her bleeding cracked lips. Her voice was so full of sorrow and betrayal that for a split second the Master felt pity. But no, pity was so human and that was everything he wasn't. Pity was struck off the list. Absolutely no sadness for the pathetic excuse of a creature that lay before him.

"My name is the Master," He growled and smacked her again.

Her poor broken body couldn't take anymore. Lucy was seen to visibly deflate and utterly collapse onto the bed. Her eyes closed against the onslaught of pain and tirade of words.

If only she could die. That would make it all better.

The Master smiled triumphantly as she fell unconscious once more. Now the real business could start! It was an improvement when she was comatose: It stopped the irritating whining.

Harold Saxon lay on his wife and gave her his love in a brutal and painful way. There was nothing she could do but wish it to end. Please...Let him leave her...


	3. Everything's Fine

Everything's Fine...

The white basin stained red as Lucy Saxon spat into it. She would be coughing up blood for the next few days but it would be over soon. It always stopped and her husband knew when to stop the beating so that it had no lasting effects. Her husband...Could she call him that anymore? No. He was her owner. He was her master.

Tears mixed with the blood as Lucy's body shook with sadness. How had she got here? She knew she couldn't leave him, she just couldn't. She was scared when he was with her and scared when he wasn't. She loved the sound of his voice but cowered when he shouted at her. Lucy was being torn apart and could do nothing about it.

The door creaked open slightly, "Mrs Saxon?" A timid voice squeaked, "There's someone here to..." He gave a gasp when he saw the blood and her bruises all over her naked back. "I say, are you OK?" He questioned. In answer Lucy thought: _No, I am not OK. The man I love is hurting me and ripping me to shreds and staining my soul but I still love him. There's nothing I can do. Please help me._

Instead she wiped her eyes and gave a 100-watt smile and straightened her back. Quickly she pulled a towel around herself and turned to face the office-worker: One of the many nameless who worked for her Master.

"It's absolutely perfect." She beamed, though it was almost impossible through her cut lips and bruised face, "I'm fine. Everything's fine."

A sudden voice came from the doorway behind the office-worker. "Run along now." The Master ordered. The office-worker quickly scurried away in surprise and shock.

Once he had left the Master started up a slow and sarcastic applause. "Oh well done, Luce!" He said, "That was some quick thinking there. We don't want anyone to know about what goes on do we?" He took a step forward and she stepped back in automatic reaction. "It's our little secret..." With that he grinned and swept off out of her room.


	4. A Second of Remorse

A Second of Remorse

She loved him. The Master wasn't denying it, but he was feeling very guilty. He could see the fear mingled with love as she looked at him. He heard her wracking sobs at night when she thought he was asleep. She saw her shake when she hugged him. She loved to fear him and feared to love him and it tore him apart.

It was like he was two people: Harold Saxon who loved and cared for his wife, and the Master who wanted to hurt her and scare her.

Another thing he feared was that if someone found out what he was doing to her. The Social Services was something he didn't feel like dealing with just at that moment.

There was a knock at the office door. A small ratty man came in, with a file of papers.

"Sir, I need to speak to you," He said, trying hard to muster some courage, "it's about your wife..." The man looked edgily at him boss. Harold Saxon hadn't moved a muscle. The office-worker couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

"I came across her in the bathroom..." He looked shocked at his boss's angry face, "NO! It wasn't like _that_! I was just informing her she had a guest! Well she had these bruises all over her back and cuts on her face. The sink appeared to be full of blood, sir. I wondered if you knew anything about it."  
The Master was seething. "You are demoted!" He yelled, "No! Make that double demoted! You will NEVER come here again! Get out! GET OUT!"

The man began to make haste for the door when the Master said, softly, "Wait a moment." The man stopped.

"You came in here as an office-worker, "and then I demoted you down to a normal guy." He twiddled the laser screwdriver in his hand, "Then I demoted you again..."

There was a flash and the man lay dead on the floor.

For a second the Master felt remorse for the man's death.

Only for a second though.


	5. It Wasn't Even Love

It Wasn't Even Love

The bed was hard and lumpy. Or maybe that was just the pain of her body? Lucy had no idea but she knew she couldn't move because if she did it would cause an awful stabbing sensation in her side. Her tears had long since stopped but had also made a small puddle on her pillow that was very uncomfortable to lie on. It was so dark that Lucy couldn't see her hand in front of her face, if she had the energy to try and look, that is. Out of the darkness came a soft touch on her poor bruised back. Oh, God, he was awake.

"You OK, babe?" The husky whispered.

Lucy tried to keep to her breathing even. If he thought she was awake he would subdue her to violence and that was the last thing she wanted. If only she had the courage to stand up to him and stop him. But she knew that he was an immovable wall and she was trapped.

"Lucy?" He probed again. This time there was a slight undercurrent of anger. If she didn't answer she would be in trouble.

"Oh, Harry..." Lucy gasped. A sob caught in her throat but she squashed it down. The worst thing she could do was cry. She mustn't let him see her cry... Mustn't...

"It's alright, Lucy," He said with a smile, "I know it's hard but I do it for your own good. You need to be taught a lesson. It's all for _you_ because I love you more than anyone. You know that don't you?"

Did she? No. Lucy believed that she was not loved by the man next to her. She was his object, the thing he controlled. He could do anything to her and there was nothing she could do back.

At her silence the Master sighed, irritated. "Do you want me to show you I love you?" He asked. Somehow it sounded like a threat. It was more than her broken weary body could take.  
"Not tonight, Harry...Please. I'm too tired. Just too tired..." She pleaded, "Tomorrow. I promise it'll be tomorrow. OK?"

He looked momentarily put out but then grinned. The mad little glint was back in his eyes, "Sure Luce, I'm easy!" He shrugged.  
It seemed a little too easy to convince him. Still, Lucy was grateful that at least for that night she was free. She knew in the back of her mind she would really pay tomorrow but for now she lay calmly and slept.


	6. Always

Always 

Lucy didn't know which part of her hurt the most. Her head lolled in an awkward position but to move it hurt. She had fallen on her arm when he had pushed her and her wrist had twisted. Her other arm lay on her face in a useless way to protect herself. She was covered in new bruises, but had placed them strategically so that people wouldn't know. It always, _always_, hurt the most for the few minutes after. After he had hurt her and left she was shredded mentally and physically.  
The door creaked open slowly. Oh, God. Please don't let him be back!

But instead of her husband, Tish and Francine sneaked in. It was so dark that Lucy couldn't see them but she heard their low voices:  
"Mum, I hate this! I _hate_ it!" Tish whispered vehemently.

"I know, my darling. I hate it too. But you mustn't speak of it. He'll hear and the last thing I want is for him to hurt you... Oh! What on earth is that?" The sentence ended in a horrified gasp.

Lucy vaguely felt hands softly touch her. The light snapped on with a sudden blaring glow. Lucy automatically shut her eyes against its brightness. It hurt...Everywhere hurt... Please, couldn't they just go and leave her?

"Mum! It's his wife!"Cried Tish in horror, as she recognised the battered and bruised and bleeding thing in the chair to be Lucy Saxon.

"We should go, quickly!" Francine said, "We don't want to meddle in affairs that aren't ours. We'll get into trouble."

"Mum how can you say that? He knocks her about. I've heard her crying. She's as much of a victim as we are. We need to help her-"  
But the sentence was stopped by the step of a footstep outside the room. A low whistling could be heard as Harry wondered back to see how his wife was fairing.

As fast as lightening Francine and Tish had left the room and switched the light off. They wouldn't, couldn't, be seen to aid Lucy. He may kill them.

Harry opened the door slowly as Lucy shut her eyes tightly and prayed that he would just let her lie. Had he had enough of her? Would he actually finish her off for good? Or perhaps he'd call a doctor to help her? He had done that before, when he was in a good mood. Please...Please let him be nice...

"I'm back, sweetie." He whispered, as he stroked her injuries tenderly. "Tut, tut! Had a nasty fall there didn't we Lucy? Hmm? Bumped into a lamppost maybe? Or fell down the stairs? Take your pick, Luce. I'm not fussy as long as no-one knows what really happened. Got that?" He hissed the last part angrily so as to make sure she understood. Through some kind of miracle, Lucy managed to nod.

Seemingly satisfied, he left her.

After he had gone Lucy sobbed again. She wept for her pain. She wept for her love. She wept for her husband, who was lost to her. Mostly she wept because of the emotions running through her.

It always hurt the most straight after he left.

Always.


	7. May I Be Remembered?

May I be remembered? 

What was the point?  
Lucy didn't want to fight anymore. She was hurt too much and a part of her had died. He had wanted her to be submissive and now she was. Lucy had learnt the hard way that it was better to be quiet and keep her head down and get on. That decreased the pain, though only by a little.

Lucy stood in the room she'd nick-named the Throne Room. It was the place her husband spent most of his time and had imprisoned the Doctor. The poor withered old man sat dejected in his cage. A year. The Doctor had been trapped for a year as his arch-enemy had ruled the world and danced to ridiculous pop songs.

Lucy had a sudden urge to go over to him. She walked to the cage and the Doctor looked up in surprise. The first thing he noticed was the small blue-black bruise on her forehead. Harry had been careless last night.

"How did that happen?" The Doctor whispered, worried.

Lucy was nervous, "I...Tripped, silly accident." She told him.

"_He _did this to you, didn't he?" The Doctor didn't need to clarify who "_he_" was. They both knew.

Lucy paused for a second, and then nodded. She kept her gaze away from the Doctor's deep brown eyes. If she looked at him she'd crumble.

The doors slid open and Lucy jumped away from the cage. To be caught talking to the Doctor would mean facing her husband's anger. The Scissor Sisters "I Can't Decide" played on the speakers as the Master danced in. He made a grab for his wife and kissed her passionately. Lucy didn't try to resist because she knew it'd be useless. She just let him to kiss her and dance off. Afterwards she wondered to the side of the room and stood there trying to melt into the wall. She wished she was dead. That'd be good.

_Hours Later_

It was there. Shiny and lethal and her ticket to freedom. Lucy inched closer and closer to the gun that Francine had dropped. It was so simple! One shot and it'd all be over. One shot was all it took.

As Lucy sneaked towards the gun she glanced at her husband. He was handcuffed and looked angry, of course he was. He had been defeated. He was going to spend the rest of his life in the Doctors prison.

Or he'd be dead.

There was a single shot and her husband fell to the ground.

Lucy was empty. It had taken all her energy to shoot him and now she had no purpose in life now.  
Before the end, though, Lucy had one last wish:

_Let me be remembered not as the submissive wife of a murderer. Please, Lord, may I be remembered for killing the most evil man in the world. When people think of me let them remember that Lucy Saxon was strong and finally free._

THE END


End file.
